


The One Most Unlike You

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Dominance, M/M, Spartan AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-10
Updated: 2012-12-10
Packaged: 2017-11-20 20:26:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/589321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What be your name, Helot?” </p><p>The boy remains quiet, though his mouth - and what a pretty mouth it was - twitched, almost as if he were going to respond. He is still and yet not; lean muscles twitching, hands clenching and relaxing at his sides, knees shifting slightly where he was on the ground. After a while the boy has the audacity to snort and it wipes away the remainder of any patience the Spartan had.</p><p>-</p><p>More names to be added if and when I decide to continue this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One Most Unlike You

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt on Tumblr. 
> 
> Also, because Derek would make a great Spartan.

He eyed the boy in front of him; notes that while the boy was on his knees - forced - he kept his head lifted, determined, defiant.

 

“What be your name, Helot?”

 

The boy remains quiet, though his mouth - and what a pretty mouth it was - twitched, almost as if he were going to respond. He is still and yet not; lean muscles twitching, hands clenching and relaxing at his sides, knees shifting slightly where he was on the ground. After a while the boy has the audacity to snort and it wipes away the remainder of any patience the Spartan had.

 

“Give me your name,” he snarls, grabbing the boy’s jaw with bruising force.

 

Still the boy remained silent, save for the sound of a pained sort of hiss. Just before the Spartan moved to strike him, an older man stepped in.

 

“He is not to be treated like a slave. I apologize for Jackson leaving him here without any sort of explanation.”

 

“Excuse me?” the Spartan gives his attention to the elder, “Is he _not_ a Helot, Peter? He is certainly not a Spartan, and therefore below me.”

 

“Ah, he is both. A helot for a father, but his mother was indeed a Spartan. What a woman she was. Dead now, but he was to be sent away from home for training anyway. Good timing I think.”

 

Below him the boy grits his teeth and makes an angry noise.

 

“He still needs to show respect and give his name when asked, uncle,” he shakes the boy’s jaw, receiving a grunt in response.

 

“You haven’t given me your name. So why should I give you mine? That doesn’t seem very fair,” the boy rasps.

 

Peter chuckles behind him and the Spartan cannot help giving the boy a small smirk. He admires the fire in him.

 

“Derek,” the Spartan says, “now give me your name, brat.”

 

“Stiles,” the boy replies, a sarcastic grin splayed across his face with a false and mocking cheer in his eyes. It made Derek want to punch the expression off the boy’s face. Or maybe bite it off, he thinks as he looks at the boy’s lips for what might be the umpteenth  time.

 

Peter claps his hands behind the two of them and says,

 

“Well, now that you two are acquainted you can begin. Derek, this boy is now under your care. You are to mentor him and be responsible for his conduct.”

 

“What?” Derek narrowed his eyes, his voice rigid.

 

“You are unmarried,” Peter raises one brow at Derek, “and I’ve heard you have no intentions of changing that soon. It’s either this or public humiliation, and I know you’d much rather have this. Stiles is yours now.”

 

And with that, Peter is out of the room. Derek huffs and lets go of Stiles’ jaw, causing the boy to tumble backwards with a curse on his lips and fully lie on the floor. Stiles glares up at him, and Derek gives it back tenfold.

 

“I don’t like this anymore than you do,” Stiles grits out, “but it looks like you are stuck with me. I’ll stay out of your way, and you stay out of mine.”

 

Again, Derek finds himself surprised at the boy in front of him. The fire that’s on the boy’s tongue. There’s disobedience in the boy’s eyes again, and that just won’t do.

 

“You will listen to me, Stiles.”

 

That earns him a mocking smirk, “Oh?”

 

Derek’s mouth twitches and his eyes turn hungry. He is on Stiles in seconds, hands pinning the boy’s shoulders down and knees in between Stiles’ legs, spreading them apart.

 

“Yes, ‘ _oh_ ’,” Derek grasps the rags that are the boy’s sorry excuse for clothing and starts to pull, “and it’s time I start teaching you.”

**Author's Note:**

> The Spartans are literally my favorite people in history. Maybe I'll make this a way longer story one day.
> 
> To understand what a Helot is, the Spartans considered them to be something between a free man and a slave.
> 
> Also, I know it's weird for them to keep modern names, but I felt weird about changing them, so their original names stood.


End file.
